Death and Diamonds Are Forever
by PetitBois
Summary: A trader in rare artefacts gets a lot more than she bargained for when an auction does not go as planned. With an attitude and a past, Arianna is thrust into a world that seems a little too familiar. Ian bites off more than he can chew (literally) with his choice of dinner. When their worlds collide, will there be anything left than death and diamonds?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _Arianna_

I was running late.

I mean, I was always running late, but this time, I was running _really_ late.

In my defence, it wasn't my fault. I can't deny my lack of time awareness when my classic winged liner goes awry, but I had a professional do my hair and makeup tonight to make sure that _didn't_ happen. And I was still running late.

There I was, in full pamper preparation mode, when my afternoon off was rudely interrupted by an email saying a client wanted to discuss a large bid on an upcoming artefact. Apparently, he's a pretty regular and generous customer, so this was not an email I could afford to put off until Monday. There was even a hint that he would be there tonight.

So, I ran into the office at 5pm on a Friday, bringing my elegant and classy little black dress with me so I could change in my office. Two and a half hours later, I was in the lift, zipping myself up, stepping into my Louboutins and checking the location of my Uber. Multi-tasking is my middle name.

A gentle _whoosh_ emitted from the glass doors of the building as I strode through and my Uber swiftly came to a stop and I hopped in. If the traffic was light I could still make it in good time. Late, but not _late._ I reveled in the few moments of peace before I put on my game face for the party.

I was still the "New Girl", which is hard enough in any job, but my colleagues mainly consisted of older men and even older contacts. The Rare Artefacts business was a game played by a select, rich, elite few. So how an orphaned, recent graduate ended up in my position is anyone's guess.

Graduating with a First-class honours degree in Ancient History, I decided (like many), that after I left the comforting cocoon of University, I wanted to get the Wanderlust out of my system before entering the world of work. Of course, I came back after a year, stone broke with only my backpack to my name.

My Great Aunt Willow welcomed me with open arms. She'd cared for me ever since my Dad died. My Mum is thought to be dead too, but we don't talk about her. My Aunt looked after me through the last few years of High School and then University. She's been the only constant in my life but I hated having to lean on her. She was frail and just about managed to support herself, let alone a twenty-four year old with crippling student debts.

When I came back, feeling more lost than when I left (and even more lost than that time I took a wrong turn in Tokyo) she made a few phone calls. She 'knew someone who knew someone who knew someone.' Or someone owed her a favour. And I think there was cake exchanged at some point. I wasn't sure about the details, but all I knew was one Friday I was on the sofa binge-watching _Breaking_ _Bad_ for the fourth time and then 9am on Monday morning I was walking into a tall glass building in a borrowed pencil skirt.

I hadn't really known what to expect, I knew the company sourced and retrieved rare, valuable artefacts and then either offered them to the museums around the world or to the highest bidder. Unsurprisingly, it was usually the highest bidder that got to take home the goodies. Most of my colleagues outsourced the 'find and retrieval' side of things. I thought it was fun - I got to put my degree to good use and I loved researching the artefact. And who didn't want to jet off at a moment's notice to pick up an Oriental Vase from the 5th Century found in a forgotten antechamber?

What I hadn't expected was how good the commission was on top of my salary. When I received my first paycheck, I returned the borrowed pencil skirt, with a designer replacement and bought my Louboutins. I loved my Louboutins.

The 'Old Boys' as I called them, did not appreciate a young, fresh-faced 'girl' moving in on their turf. The 'Big Boss' was fairly elusive - mostly worked from home and if he did come into the office, it was after everyone else had gone home to work with the time differences. But I was determined to do well at this job and the perks were amazing - London office, opportunity for travel, rented flat - every graduate's dream. Actually, most people's dream. If that meant I had to go to the annual Bidders soiree, then so be it.

The Uber stopped outside _The Stationers' Hall_. I took a few deep breaths before thanking the driving and making my way inside. I did not want to be here. I knew when I wasn't welcome.

But, tonight was very important. We had 5 live auctions happening. My item - a rare piece of aboriginal artwork - was one of the less valuable items for sale, but it still had multiple zeros at the end of the starting number and knowing some of the bidders, a few more might be added before the gavel comes crashing down.

I'm not saying the items we acquired were 'dodgy' or 'black market', but when someone wanted something badly enough, at least we could be there to control the damages. And maybe make a quid or two in the process.

The most valuable item on tonight's menu was an extremely rare Black Diamond, which was supposedly owned by Queen Victoria. The rumours of lost lives which surrounded it made me shudder, but my morbid curiosity meant that I couldn't wait to see it in the flesh. Pictures had been passed through emails but that was nothing compared to the real thing.

A man at the door took my wrap, revealing the my classic 'Little Black Dress' and I entered into 'The Stock Room', heading straight to the bar to grab a drink.

'Whiskey. On the rocks.' I told the well dressed barman as I turned to survey the room. This small reception room was filled with men and women, dressed in their finery and I could see through the lavish doors, the larger hall next door. The majority of the attendees were older men. A good handful worked for the company and had brought their wives - most of whom were aging with 'class' and botox.

The older, fatter, balding men who were here to get their greasy paws on the merchandise and pay handsomely for it, were accompanied by bored looking gorgeous women who look like they stepped off a catwalk in Paris.

Kanye West started playing in my head, telling me n _ow I ain't sayin' she a gold digger_ as I drained my glass. I heard a bark of laughter from the next room and smiled to myself at the serendipitous timing. I motioned for the bartender to pour me another.

As I waited for my drink to be poured, I felt a hum of energy behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a very blond man sidle up next to me at the bar and catch the attention of the man pouring my drink.

 _Jeez, let him finish mine first_ , I thought as blondie signalled for a whiskey as well.

He smirked as he said:

'Hold the stones on mine though mate. And give the lady hers first, she must be gasping.'

I turned and looked at him. _Mate?_ I hadn't heard a cockney accent like that in a long time. I didn't really believe _anyone_ spoke like that any more - unless they were selling jellied eels down by the Thames. My head tilted automatically and I took him in.

He was a panty dropper for sure. Almost all the women in the room were looking in our direction. _Gorgeous_ didn't even begin to cover it. _Jaw-dropping, scrummy, sex-on-a-stick_ was a more apt description. I raised my glass to my lips, allowing the rich, smoky scent of the liquor to assault me before I felt the ice cold fire caress my tongue.

He turned and faced me. Our eyes connected instantly. They were a deep mahogany brown that could make you think you were drowning in chocolate if you weren't careful. Instinctively, my body moved closer and took a deep breath to steady myself. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He smelt like Christmas trees.

I opened my eyes and smiled. A genuine smile for once, not the one I usually wear for clients.

'Your wife will be wondering where you are if you're not careful,' I told him. The slight raise of his eyebrow was the only indication I surprised him. I turned back to the bar and raised a finger to catch the bar tenders attention. 'Tonic or lemonade?' I asked the blond man. The other eyebrow joined the first.

I smiled again.

'You smell like gin, but you're drinking whiskey and you don't seem the mixing type. The only way you could smell that strongly was if someone threw a glass over you or someone who really likes gin has been kissing you most of the night. And you're not wet.' I smiled again. He smirked at the double entendre. Or perhaps at a private joke.

'Just gin,' was all he said. This time, it was my eyebrows which made way for my hairline. Personally, I am not a fan of 'Mother's Ruin', but I respect anyone who drinks it neat. I smiled again.

'Put it on my tab - I'm with the company,' I told him and the bartender as I drained my glass and started to walk away.

His cool had completely encircled my wrist.

'How did you know she was my wife and not my girlfriend?' he asked.

I laughed.

'Despite your lack of a ring, no woman in their right mind would leave you unattached,' and I pulled my arm away and headed towards the Main Hall to get lost in the crowd.

His touch has unnerved me. I could still feel him lingering on my skin as I made my rounds of 'hellos' and 'how are yous'. The coldness of the responses were nothing compared to his touch. Considering I had poor circulation, my core temperature ran lower than most people, his touch must have been icy. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood to attention, as if someone's breath was trailing over my skin.

After the compulsory meet and greets, where wives looked disdainfully down their noses at me to the point where I wondered if they'd get a crick in their neck by the end of the night, I finally made it to my destination: _The Court Room_. It was empty as the meal was about to begin, but this gave me the perfect opportunity to admire the items alone.

In here, the lights were dimmed. Five pedestals, laid out like the five of diamonds in a pack of cards, were the main and only focus in the room. Blinding spotlights illuminated the five artefacts encased in glass.

Becoming a shadow amongst shadows, I took my time strolling around each case, taking in the beauty, the individuality, the uniqueness of each item. They made me almost breathless. So much history, so much worth, in one room. I'd stopped in front of the case positioned directly in the middle. The Black Diamond.

Watching the way the light gleamed of the facets I wondered if it could shine any brighter; it was as if the light absorbed by the diamond itself. I was enraptured.

Perhaps that was why I hadn't noticed anyone else enter the room.

Not until I caught a hint of movement behind me in the reflection of the diamond.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Note:

I hadn't planned on doing a dual perspective, so this kind of just happened!

Please let me know what you think - it's very encouraging!

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _Ian_

When Crispin came back from the bar with his whiskey, and a glass of neat gin for Cat, grinning like an idiot, of course, I had to berate him.

"Why do you look like the cat that got the cream? Shouldn't it be Cat that got creamed? Surely she did that before you left? Or in the car... Or both," Cat threw a her steely gaze in my direction.

"I've just met the most charming girl - and no luv, before you say anything, she wasn't even flirting - knew I was married before I could even say two words to her! Sharp lass." Cat's vampire territorialism over Bones was renowned in the undead community. She was firecracker.

"How did she know?" Cat asked.

"Women's intuition I guess. I only went to the bar because she was singing Kanye West in her head and I thought it was hilarious," he replied.

I enquired what song. Crispin's eyes followed a busty blonde girl on the arm of a balding man.

" _Golddigger_ ," he smirked. I smirked too. Though she did look good enough to eat.

Cat looked around the main hall. There was a fair number of women loitering around, many looking very bored and about as sharp as a butter knife.

"Is she the one with the bangs?" asked Cat.

Bangs? Bones rolled his eyes. "She means fringe - bloody Americans." Cat shot him a look that suggested he was going to pay for that jab later.

My eyes crawled lazily around the room. I wasn't interested in being here but the amount of money I put into the company earned me a free ticket to, what is commonly and 'affectionately' known in the rare artefacts community, the "Big Bidders Ball", or just "Big Balls". There was a couple of pieces in tonight's auction that I would claim by the end of the night and I was going to green-eye every one of these bastards to make sure I got them.

Cat pointed to a woman that was making her way into The Court Room. Tight black dress, killer heels and dark, dark hair. Delicious.

A man in a penguin suit rapped his gavel on the table to inform the guests it was time for dinner. Time for mine, too.

I turned to Cat and said, "Seeing as your husband rudely left me gasping for a drink, I believe I'm just going to have to find my own, more salty variety."

I had to be on top form for the auction, after all.

Cat exhaled loudly, and seeing as she had no need to breathe, I knew it was to tell me to behave myself. _Like that was ever going to happen._

Weaving through the crowds descending upon their tables, I made my way to the entrance of The Court Room. I leaned against the frame, watching my prey, as if I was playing a game of cat and mouse.

She was enchanting, the way she moved with the shadows instead of being afraid of them, like most humans. I closed my eyes and listened to the rhythmic beat of her heart. It was soothing.

The human heart is very predictable. The stronger beat, followed by almost a quieter echo. Yes, you got irregular heart beats and those with a murmur or pacemaker - but the majority of the human race had the same heartbeat, and nothing could distinguish them - not race, sexual preference or gender. It was all very boring.

You can imagine my interest when, for a moment, I heard the tiniest of flutters. If I hadn't been lulled to boredom by the same beating drums which filled the halls, I wouldn't have picked up on it when surrounded by the crowds. I disappeared into the shadows, stalking, as my gaze devoured, what it was that made her heart flutter...

Interesting.

It was one of the pieces I had come to bid on. A piece of aboriginal artwork, dating about 250-300 years ago made with the usual intricate substances of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, as well as teeth and bones. To me it was beautiful. It was my history and my life and my memories. I had to have it.

For each item in the room she gave the same care and attention, drinking the rich wine of history and beauty before moving to the next one. But none made her heart flutter like the aboriginal artwork. Except for…

Well of course. The diamond. I would have thought the whole of the next room could hear how the diamond affected her. Her delicate hand rose to her throat. I stalked silently closer.

That diamond. This was the main reason I was here. None of these breathers understood the true value of the piece, believing it belonged to our dear Queen Vic so that instantly made it covet worthy. But to the undead amongst us, we all knew it's history. Every baby vamp was told stories of The Black Diamond and how, if used by the right vampire, it could supposedly drain the undead of their powers and make them almost… mortal. A cure some might call it.

It had been lost since the time of Cain but apparently the royal bloodline kept it close to their blue blooded bosoms and now here it is. Oh how the mighty fall. I couldn't wait to hold it in my hands and feel the power pulse through them.

Did I want to become mortal? Hell no. Did I want to torture my friends and enemies with the idea that I could make _them_ mortal? Yes. Oh yes.

The main point was that I was going to own it and that I could do what I want with it. Hell, I might chip a bit off and make a nice decorative bar for my Prince Albert so him and Vicky can feel close again. I liked that idea. My dick having the power to make mortals. The Mortal Maker. Double entendre intended (despite the swimmers no longer swimming… you get my drift).

Whilst I was having fantasies about my dick (not unusual), I'd subconsciously been creeping closer. The girl was bent over now, trying to get a closer look and sticking that delectable derriere in my direction. Hummm, dinner and a show. My fangs ached and I almost frothed at the mouth. I was now horny and hungry - sue me.

I finally got a glimpse at the girl's face in the reflection of the diamond. Large, brown doe eyes and soft, plump, English Rose skin. What's that word some use to describe it?

Albino? No, isn't that the gene thing?

I moved closer.

Alicante? Pretty sure I've been there on holiday.

I could imagine her skin breaking beneath my fangs and her tasting like caramel, or dark chocolate.

Ala...ala…

Her gasp jerked me from my inner musings.

Time to see what she really tasted like...


	3. Chapter 3

Author Note:

My apologies that I have taken a little while to update - I have been away!

This is a split chapter, with Ian and Arianna.

Please let me know if you enjoy! x

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 _Arianna_

I saw a flash of red reflected in the diamond, like blood staining the surface. I gasped and whirled around.

In an instant, a pair of hands gripped me, one hand, like a vice, holding my wrists behind my back and the other gripping my neck.

The red I had seen was the man's flaming chestnut hair, framing a pair of green orbs glowing where his eyes should be.

" _Bon appetit_ ," he whispered.

The pain was instantaneous but morphed into scorching pleasure. I could feel my bloody burning through my veins, pumping round my body. It felt like my heart was threatening to burst from my chest like a horse trying to win the Derby. I couldn't speak, but only gasp and make small noises. I felt the suction of his mouth pulling my tender flesh, as if he was a lover leaving his mark. As if he was whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

I supposed this is what it felt like to die in ecstasy.

When he pulled away from my neck, my body felt it was simultaneously too soon and not soon enough. I released a breath I that hadn't realised I had been holding. My legs were unstable beneath me. My hands groped to find something to cling on to, which wasn't the man standing in front of me. I ended up gripping the glass which incased the diamond, leaving my fingerprints like ripples on the surface.

The man moved closer to me again. He gripped the back of my head he raised his hand to his mouth and scored his thumb on his… _fang?_

Alarm bells started ringing in my head.

Big, loud, thunderous alarm bells.

His bright green, glowing eyes, looked straight at me and I was caught in his gaze.

"You will remember none of this," he whispered as he moved his thumb, with a bead of his own blood, closer to my neck.

"Like _hell_ I won't," I said loudly, breaking the spell of his eyes and I speared his foot with the heel of my Louboutin. I felt the leather of his shoe give way under the power of my stamp.

He jumped in surprise and grabbed his foot as extracted my heel and I pushed passed him and running out into the Gardens.

Terrified of being followed, I quickly went to the furthest corner and found a waiter having a cigarette and he jumped up to assist me. He could see that I had a hand over my neck and I was bleeding.

"Bathroom?" I choked out to him and he directed me towards the main building. My eyes darted around and I almost ran alongside him. He started to mumble about calling an ambulance and the police but with a shaky voice and quiet persuasion, I managed to assure him that I was okay and it was just a silly accident.

I ran into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I probably should have checked if there was anyone else in here, but my thoughts were all over the place. I breathed a sigh of relief as I couldn't see any feet under the doors. The last thing I needed was anyone else in here asking questions. I grabbed a hand towel and started to dab at my neck to get rid of the blood. The only evidence that this had happened was two red holes on my neck. I must be going mad. He bit me. He _bit_ me. What the hell...

I placed my hands flat on the marble and leant over them.

 _In...two...three…four...out…two...three…four. In...two...three…four...out…two...three…four._

My head started to spin and I could feel the heat crawling up my neck and creating black spots on my eyes. I couldn't see. My blood was rushing in my ears. I couldn't hear. I couldn't take a full deep breath. I couldn't breathe.

 _Oh God. This is it. I'm actually dying this time._

It felt like a lifetime since I'd had my last panic attack.

The sounds of banging on the door brought me crashing back to my senses.

"Why would someone lock the door? Some of us need to pee!" A voice on the other side whined. I ignored it. I didn't need that crap right now.

I waited for another minute until the knocking subsided. _Note to self, check if there is puddle outside the door when leaving._

In front of the mirror, I took a few more deep breaths and I managed to undo some of the bobby pins the stylist had put in earlier and cobble together an elegant side-do to cover the marks. It wasn't great, but it would have to do.

There was a slightly lighter knock on the door.

"Hello? Are you okay? I saw you come in here a while ago and I just wanted to make sure you were alright…" The voice was soft and gentle with an American accent.

The first time I tried to reply, no noise came out of my mouth.

I tried again.

"I… I… I'm fine. Thank you. Just drank too much on an empty stomach I suppose." My croaky, weak reply came. Even I didn't believe it.

"Well... If you're sure. Would you like me to get you anything? A glass of water? Or I can go to the kitchens and see if they have any bread or something?" The bodiless voice came again.

Now I was just being rude.

I walked over to the door and undid the lock with a loud _clunk_ and pulled it towards me.

A woman with flaming red hair and snow pale skin smiled at me. She too, had glowing green eyes…

* * *

 _Ian_

Crispin and Cat had walked into _The Court Room_ as I flexed my foot to check that it had all healed and she wasn't packing silver in her heels like _some_ women were known to do.

"Alright mate? We heard the commotion - what has your nuts in a bow?" Crispin said as he clapped me on the shoulder.

"That damned 'interesting lass,'" I mimicked him, "bloody speared me with a stiletto! Bitch!"

"Which is when she stormed off I guess… why didn't you green eye her?" Cat inquired.

"Ah, you know, I like to leave a human or two with their memories intact so they can feckin' 'out' us whenever they bloody well feel like it," I snapped back at her, the Irish in me rising to the surface in my anger. Crispin gave me a warning glare. "I tried but it didn't work and then I had to deal with a bloody hole in my foot so when she ran off and I didn't see where."

Crispin and Cat exchanged glances.

"I'll go look for her and put the greens on her. She's probably in the bathroom washing up the blood…" Cat said as she wandered off to search the few female bathrooms dotted around.

Crispin and I watched her go, though she vanished in the blink of an eye.

He turned back to me.

"So… the greens didn't work, eh?" he said, raising that god damned eyebrow.

"No." I said. I thought that much was obvious.

"Hummm…" and he tapped his chin. "Not many humans about that can resist the gaze, " he said. Well thank you Captain Obvious. "Have you thought about what happens if you can't make her forget?" he said.

"No I fucking haven't - I wasn't thinking much past 'dinner'," I snapped back to him.

Jesus, I _made_ him and now he's lecturing me? I looked down at my shoe and the dirty great hole in it and frowned. I might have to have a word with Mencheres if I can't wipe the girls memory. I know he had issues with Kira but then again, he turned and married her. Not on my list of priorities. I'd wait and see what Cat said and if she managed to rid the girl of her memories of my dinner.

Crispin and I walked back into the room used for dining and it appeared the main course was just finishing. _Oh good, we were in time for dessert_ , I thought as I locked eyes with a young blonde looking ravishing in a tight red dress, licking her lips and stroking her cleavage. Crispin rolled his eyes. Just because he was married and no longer wanted to sample all the flavours, didn't mean I didn't want to.

I licked my own lips and tasted a trace of the she-devil I just bit. _Cain_ , did she taste delicious. The rich, thick, salty and sweet taste of blood with a hint of smoky whiskey. I licked around my mouth again hoping to get another taste. If I could finally get to green eye her, I'd work out where she lived and taste her on special occasions, like a fine wine. I could see her being almost addicting as Chasing the Dragon.

Thinking about her blood and my one evening of drug-fuelled research sent my blood racing to parts of me which I should be old enough to control. Bloody hell, I was a 220 year old vampire and I was getting a boner like hormonal teenager.

I cleared my throat and headed towards the bar with Crispin, waiting for Cat's all clear that this wild card was all sorted.

"Drink, Sir?" Asked the woman now serving at the bar. I turned to her and felt my smile unfurl like a cat waking from a nap. My gazed danced down her body, admiring how the starched white shirt strained against her breasts. Nothing. Nada. No arousal whatsoever. Good, all back under control.

"Whiskey, please - the best Irish you have. Neat."

Crispin and I began to survey the room.

"How's Katie?" I asked. Crispin and Cat had been using one of my safe houses, living with Katie and raising their vampire child, out of sight from the rest of the vampire community, who believed her to be dead. They rarely ventured outside of their bubble, keeping up the façade that Cat was too distraught to be mingling in vampire society. I'd asked them along tonight for two reasons: one, they needed to get out and two, I wanted to show off the diamond I was buying to Crispin, as he'd never sell me his red one, which now resided on Cat's ring finger.

"She's good, she's with Justina and Tate tonight. Bonding apparently," and he rolled his eyes.

I picked up my glass of light amber liquid and took a sip. I let the whiskey caress my tongue before slipping smoothly down my throat. The rich bouquet almost made me shiver and made me think of blood and sex. Ah, _Teeling_. Perfect.

Crispin cleared his throat and I opened my eyes, which I hadn't noticed I'd closed. Crispin pointedly looked away with his eyebrows disappearing to his hairline. What?

I heard the bartender giggle.

I looked down to see a raging boner in my trousers. A huge, tenting, raging boner. What the hell?!

Crispin stifled a laugh as I rearranged myself and concentrated on sending blood to my brain and not my balls. Jesus Christ what was wrong with me. I took another sip and realised the spicy bouquet wasn't just from the whiskey, it was _her_ scent.


	4. Chapter 4

Author Note:

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 _Arianna_

As soon as I opened the door and saw the glow I moved to slam it shut again, but the woman was too fast.

"Ow- Hey!" I shouted as she pushed me into the restroom and locked the door behind her again. "What the hell do you think you are doing? I will scream until your ears bleed now let me out of here you... You… vamp tramp!" I'll admit, not my best line but I was working under pressure.

"Look, I'm sorry, Ian isn't exactly tactful but I can make this all go away and you won't remember a thing. I can heal the wounds on your neck too," she told me.

"... So you're not denying that you're vampires?" I asked, feeling the black spots creep into my vision again.

"Vampires have existed almost as long as humans. Rumour has it, we are the descendants of Cain - though we are made not born. Well some of us at least - look, it's quite complicated and I really doubt you need a history or biology lesson on this."

"... And you feed on blood?" I asked, barely registering what she had said.

"Well… yeah." She shrugged sheepishly.

"Do… do you want to feed on me?" I whispered, unable to make voice louder and hating the stammered fear in my voice. I swallowed. Hard.

"No, I'm full, but thanks for the offer," she laughed at the utter fear that must have shown on my face. "I'm joking - I... well lets just say I'm a bit of an odd one when it comes to diet," she smiled warmly at me.

I took a deep breath. I tried to steady the thumping of my heart which was still racing wildly in my chest.

"Take it away. I don't want to remember this, I don't want any part of it," I told her, pleased that my voice sounded strong and resilient. She smiled again.

"Of course. Now my eyes are going to glow and I just need you to look at me. That's it… just look right at me. You won't remember any of this…"

"So this is a vamp thing - taking away memories?" I said, whilst my eyes were locked on hers.

"I… wait… In a moment you will not remember any of this - no vampires, no feeding, no blood."

"Yes, exactly, I don't want any memory of this, but can you hurry up because the auction will be starting soon and I need to be there for my piece." She stared at me, open mouthed.

"What?" I asked with her still staring at me. I could feel my eyebrow tugging up to my hair line. _I'd_ surprised a _vampire_?

"It's not working," she said, her voice quite. "But don't worry," she rushed to finish when I opened my own mouth. "My husband is a lot older and stronger than I am so he might be better at taking away your memories, otherwise…" she trailed off.

"Otherwise what?" was my response, wary of where the conversation was going.

"Some people… can't have their memories altered. It's very rare but it has been known to happen," she said before letting out deep sigh. "Then we'll have a bit of a problem."

I took a few steps back until I was flat against the wall. I took a deep breath. And the evening started so well. Ish.

 _Right. Think. Be rational._ I told myself. You don't know if her husband will be able to take away your memories, but she did say he was more powerful and you're probably just stubborn. Willow always said my stubbornness will be the death of me… well let's not contemplate _that_ just yet. If you cant forget, then you'll just have to keep your mouth shut and never ever talk this. Ever. And you'll have to convince them you're trustworthy enough to keep their secret - or run. Running would be good. Somewhere else, somewhere new. I had just enough savings to uproot my life and start somewhere new… maybe America or Australia…

But what about Willow? I couldn't leave her, she was all I had left.

I let out a sigh, straightened my shoulders and turned to face the red headed woman.

"Okay, take me to your husband and let's give this a go." She held open the door for me and I left the bathroom, with my head still held high, despite that I felt like I was crumbling on the inside.

"My name is Cat by the way." She said as we entered the main hall again.

"Honestly, I really don't care. I just want this over with. Can I get a drink? I seriously need a drink." I rambled as I headed over towards the bar.

Everyone was just finishing dinner, which meant the auction would be starting soon. I was weaving my way through a throng of people when I felt someone grip my upper arm with painful fingers. My sharp intake of breath was audible to all those around us.

My gaze followed the length of suited arm which gripped me. Gregory. One of the "old boys". His sweaty hand was painful and I knew it would leave marks. I felt his grip tighten.

"God Arianna," he said, bringing his face close to mine. I could smell cigar smoke, meat and halitosis. "Can't you keep your drinking in check for one night?" He spat in my face.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Cat got there first.

"Sir, I think you need to let go of her. I won't ask again." Her voice was full of exasperation of years of telling men that they are not allowed to touch what wasn't theirs.

He turned to her. "Keep out of this, bitch," turning back to me he stage whispered, "Fucking Americans."

Gregory was still pissed that when I perhaps had one too many at the office Christmas party, I was still coherent enough to kick him in the balls when he's shoved me into a small closet and stuck his hand up my skirt. I looked him straight in the eye and watched his sweaty upper lip give a grimace.

"Let me go Gregory. Do not cause a scene." I said in a slow even voice. I was not a piece of meat for any man and would happily reunite my knee with those balls.

He pulled me closer still that I had to lean away to stop the stench of his breath enveloping me.

"Make me," he snarled.

"She might not mate, but I sure will," came a new, Irish-twanged voice into the conversation. "Let the lass go," said the man who bit me.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! I realise it has been a _long_ time since I updated this story, so I do apologise! I hope this makes up for it :)

Any reviews or feedback is always welcome!

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

 _Ian_

Crispin and I watched Cat and the woman enter the _Main Hall_ from the bar, me now _sans_ boner.

Cat was trying to engage her in conversation but the young woman just looked stressed and tired. By the sounds of it Cat hadn't taken her memories away - I wonder why.

"Honestly, I really don't care. I just want this over with. Can I get a drink? I seriously need a drink." She said to Cat as she made her way through the crowd in our direction.

"Better make yourself scarce mate," Crispin said. "Don't want her to freak out when she sees you." I rolled my eyes and nodded in agreement. Best make my way towards the auction, ready to place my bids.

I was about to walk out of the room when I heard Cat say, "Sir, I think you need to let go of her. I won't ask again." Cat was a force to be reckoned with with so I was surprised that someone had the balls to try anything with her around. I realise her play was usually the innocent, helpless, blood bag, but she always had a burning, untameable fire behind those stormy grey eyes. A fire that roared not to be played with.

The man didn't seem to be letting go and before I realised it, I was moving closer to them. I could smell the sweat and desperation leaking through his pores... and a hint of lust. Obviously threatening girls was what got him off.

"Let me go Gregory. Do not cause a scene." She said to him, her voice impressively steady.

Gregory. What an ass. With a stupid name.

"Make me," Gregory told her as I reached their group. She opened her mouth to say something but I got there first.

"She might not mate, but I sure will. Let the lass go," I told him, my anger thrumming beneath the surface that it felt as if my whole body was set to vibrate. Not necessarily a bad thing. I could feel the ache above my incisors where my fangs longed to unsheath themselves and sink into this guy's jugular.

She looked at me, her eyes going wide. Gregory turned to me, finally releasing her.

"Lass, do you mind grabbing me a drink from the bar? I'm parched." I felt my lips stretch wide and almost felt the twinkle in my eye

She looked between Gregory and myself and her gaze hardened. She headed towards the bar. It was almost as if she was sending me a warning.

"Right mate," I said to Gregory, giving him my full attention and turning on the greens. "Here is what is going to happen. Don't make a sound." I put my hand on his shoulder and slowly started to apply pressure. "You are going to leave that lovely girl alone. You are not going to speak to her, look at her or even think about her again. She is going to stay out of your perverted thoughts. The only time she will cross your mind is when some of your more elite and wealthy clients come to you looking for something and you are going to pass them into her capable hands. _Capiche_?"

His mouth was open in a silent scream and silent tears streamed down his face. I had certainly dislocated his shoulder, if not caused more damage.

"Now run along, say nothing, and don't cross me again." I said and he turned and walked away. I made my way to the bar.

There she stood - a neat glass of _Teeling_ in her hand. A woman who knows her whiskey. She handed me the glass without saying a word. So neither did I. I simply sipped my glass without taking my eyes off of her. I'd like to see which one of us would break first. I loved pushing limits.

I swallowed and she followed the movement of my throat - her gaze feeling like a caress. I put my empty glass on the bar and signalled for another. She turned to the bartender and said, "one for me too, please." As soon as her glass was within reach, she gulped down the whiskey like a drowning man gasps for oxygen. She signalled for another one. She gulped that one just the same and signalled for a third with her eyes closed.

"You should slow down there love; three glasses of this stuff on top of blood loss will not do you any favours." Her eyes snapped open and bore into mine.

"And who's fault is that?" she asked and took the third glass with her, stumbling slightly as she made her way across the hall.

I picked up my own glass and followed her. We made our way to the auction.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the auction is about to begin. As you know, there are five lots tonight, all handpicked and _very_ expensive," a slight titter from the audience. "So open your wallets and cheque books as we open the floor and we are about to begin!"

The MC and auctioneer made a grand sweeping gesture. I followed my enchantress as she weaved her way again through the crowd. The MC stood in a corner, on a small stage and all the bidders and onlookers gathered around, moving closer together.

I reached to grab her wrist but as soon as she felt my fingertips brush her skin, she snatched it away. So, instead I pushed my body against the back of her.

"You could at least say thank you," I whispered, pressing my lips to the outer shell of her ear.

"The first item for sale is a rare Ming Dynasty Vase, sourced and sold on by Gregory Vidal. Shall we start the bidding at £50,000?" declared the MC. Gregory joined him on stage. His arm was held at a slightly odd angle, and a smug smile began to spread on his face as the bidding rose.

"I have nothing to say to you," she spat at me. Her eyes traced over that bastard Gregory's arm. "I can't believe you did that. Now all I have to do is wait for this bloody auction to end, have my memories erased by a big bad vampire and go home to bed. Leave me alone." I watched her walk away and melt into the shadows once more.

"Two and fifty hundred thousand pounds? Going once, going twice… SOLD. Sir, please hold up your number and one of my lovely assistants will be along to talk you through the process of paying… Arianna, will you help the man?"

I watched as she emerged reluctantly from her haven of the shadows and walked to the highest bidder. Arianna… huh. Nice name. What a gorgeous assistant.

The next item came and went and I wasn't paying too much attention. Arianna was at the Winners table, clicking glasses of champagne and giving tight lipped smiles. If I got to drink champagne next to her then I definitely winning the two lots I had my eye on.

"Our next item is the 'lost'-" he made the quotation marks in the air "Johannes Vermeer painting _The Concert._ " My ears pricked up. I liked art and I appreciated art at the best of times, but 'lost items'? They were interesting. I remembered when this painting went missing in 1990. Huge scandal, lot of fakes. This could be another one, or this could be the real deal. "If you were to give this back, you would be earning yourself a cool £3.2 million. So let's start the bidding at three point five, shall we?" It made me smile that Gregory's item was so cheap in comparison. Ming vases against the rest of the items for sale? Child's play.

The gavel came down and I gave a nod to the winner as he passed. He paid handsomely to be the owner of a wonderful piece of art that I was sure would stay hidden for a many number of years, becoming more valuable with each passing day.

I made my way slowly to the front of the crowd. The first item I wanted was up next.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our next item is a 200 year old piece of aboriginal art, made with what is believed to be human bone and teeth - a rare and hauntingly beautiful item, procured and sold by our lovely Arianna Callaghan." My head shot up. She was a _seller_ at the company? "As it is two hundred years old, let's start at £200,000."

I nodded to the MC. "Thank you Sir, do I have two-fifty?" I saw movement to my left. Crispin. He raised his hand.

"Four," I said loudly over the heads of the other bidders. Crispin raised an eyebrow.

"Six," said a female voice to my right. I turned. Cat. She smiled, a cheeky glint in her eye.

"Seven-fifty," replied Crispin.

The MC hadn't said much at this point, watching with amusement at our own personal bidding war. Arianna on the other hand looked murderous.

"Eight," Cat counted back.

"One million," I jumped in. The movement of the MC's head resembled that of a crowd at a tennis match, following the fast movement between the parties.

"Two," said Crispin. A muscle in his jaw twitched to suppress his laughter.

I'll admit, I lost my temper for the next bid. But this was getting ridiculous.

"Seven million pounds." I said. A silence ushered over the room. The item wasn't worth that much and everyone knew it, but what it represented to me, was priceless. Crispin knew that.

"Sold!" shouted the MC. "Our highest bid of the night so far! Ladies and gentlemen, what an exciting bidding war. Arianna please help the gentleman will you."

I walked to the stage and held my arm out to her and she descended the steps. We made our way to the Winners table we grabbed a flute of champagne. She turned and through gritted teeth and and strained smile forced out the words:

"What. The. Fuck. Do you. Think. You. Are. Doing."


	6. Chapter 6

So... I haven't posted in about 2 years, but this story has still been in the back of my mind since then and I wanted to pick it back up when I had some time.

Just something short and sweet to move the story on. So here it is!

I know Frost has since published a story about Ian - but to me, Arianna was here first ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

 _Ian_

'What. The. Fuck. Do you. Think. You. Are. Doing.' She choked out. I just smiled.

'Why, collecting my prize. I paid a pretty penny for it after all. No thanks to you,' I aimed at Crispin, knowing he was listening. Her eyebrows pulled together as she tried to work out what I meant.

'I wasn't the one who set the price - you paid way too much for the piece and you've shown me up in front of all my colleagues!' The hiss came through her teeth, like an angry kitten - but someone else already had claim to that nickname.

'Actually, I was speaking to Crispin. He knew I wanted the piece, as did his lovely wife, so they upped the price because they're wankers. And as someone who lived it, that piece is priceless, so I would pay any price for it for the memory of those I called friends. As for your colleagues, do you think I give a fuck?'

Again, the brows drew together and a small wrinkle appeared, as she processed what I was saying.

'Friends..?' she began before some fat cat in an ostentatious patterned dinner jacket pushed passed her to shake my hand and began boring conversation.

Only a minute or two had passed, although it felt like a lifetime (and that's a vampire saying that), I loudly announced I had to make my way back to the bidding floor.

'Good God man, whatever for?' asked the rotund man with dinner in his moustache.

'For the diamond, of course,' I winked and an attendant let me through the velvet rope.

'You're bidding on the diamond as well?' asked Arianna as she caught up with me, heels lightly tapping on the floor. 'Just how rich are you?' I tapped my nose.

'A gentleman never tells.'

An indignant snort escaped her. 'I may not know an awful lot about you, but I do know you're not a gentleman.'

Well...She wasn't wrong.

The bidding war was intense, expensive and as thrilling, if not more so, than sex. It certainly left me sweating, out of breath and feeling spent.

Crispin, chuckling, came and clapped me on the shoulder and I even got a rare kiss on the cheek from Cat as she picked up a glass of champagne from the trays that were surrounding me.

'Well mate, you now have an even more impressive diamond than I do - happy now?'

'Crispin,' I chided, 'you know I'll never be happy until I beat you in every single way! I just need to find me a woman just as enchanting as your Kitten here,' and I bent to kiss Cat's hand before she whipped it away. I could almost hear her rolling her eyes and Crispin barked out a laugh.

A shiver ran up my spine, as if sharp knives were being dragged along my flesh... or nails. 'Quite a tongue on that girl you made your dinner,' Crispin said as Arianna walked up to join our small group.

'Woman, if you don't mind,' her sharp tongue retorted. 'Congratulations on winning the diamond. The MC and my manager want to speak to you. As you can imagine, considering you purchased two extortionately expensive items this evening, they're worried about how you will pay for them.'

'Excuse me,' and I walked over to the two men she had gestured to. Arianna, on the other hand, stayed with Cat and Crispin and they started small talk. I tried to focus on their conversation as I listened to the two men make a fuss about cheques and picking up the items at a later date when the cheques had cleared.

'You're fucking kidding me, right? Nah, I'll come to your office tomorrow and I'll get the bank to transfer the money there and then and I can take my treasures with me.' My eyes wandered back to the eclectic group. 'Make sure Arianna is there, I want to make sure she gets her fair commission.'

'Yes of course, Mr…?'

'Flannery. But call me Ian.' I walked away from the stuffy toffs in penguin suits and back to my friends and my… back to her.

'Arianna was just telling us about her job at the company,' said Cat as I came up behind them. I visibly saw Arianna tense.

'Relax. I'm not going to bite you again… unless you ask nicely,' I wicked grin crossed my lips and I flashed some fang. Instead of recoiling, like I expected her to, her features hardened.

'Ha. Fucking ha.' Crispin behind me gruffed again in laghted.

'Sharp tongue and imaginative. I like her.'

I turned to her. 'Look, I've asked you to be there tomorrow when I hand over the green for the final purchase, then afterwards, we can erase your memory, okay? Then this will all be over with.' She let an exasperated sigh.

'Fine. As long as I get paid and don't remember any of this, fine. Now please excuse me. It was… nice meeting you?' her voice rose at the end of the sentence as she gestured to Crispin and Cat and walked away from us.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she walked away. There was something captivating about her - her modern attitude, her presence, the way she spoke her mind, all whilst exuding class and decorum. I'll admit, she wasn't the usual complacent type I'd usually go for but she was mouthwatering in that dress. I was salivating at the mere thought.

Part of me was tempted; tempted to get to know her, tempted to know more about her and before I'd realised it, I'd texted one of my underlings asking for any information they could find out about her.

And then clarity came to me like I'd been punched in the face. What was I _doing?_ I didn't give a rats arse about this girl. Move on. I'd acquired the black diamond and the aboriginal piece and that would be very satisfying, if not slightly damaging to my wallet.

A woman in a gold silk dress, that was way too tight to allow underwear, a severe dark bun of hair at her nape and a fur stole, strode past. The undulation of her hips called to me and her eyes locked with mine as the shoulder of the fur dropped, showing that the dress was far too tight for a bra too, and that she had her nipples pierced.

 _Maybe I would have dessert after all_ , I thought as I licked my lips, walking away in the middle of the sentence Cat was saying. I hadn't heard a single word.

As I walked away, I heard Crispin say to Cat:

'Well I like her.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 _Arianna_

The next morning, I woke up groggy and with a headache. _I must have drunk more than I realised,_ I thought as I rubbed my eyes and reached out for my phone. _Why did I set my alarm so early?_

I looked at the notification on my screen which read _Final Bidding Transaction_ and I shot up. Holy crap. Last night came flooding back. Mr Flannery and the other two, Cat and Bones? Teeth. Blood. Biting. Gregory's dislocated shoulder. Oh shit. I needed to get into the office and be done with all of this as soon as possible.

I heaved myself from the cosiness of the bed- oh how I wanted to spend my Saturday in a duvet burrito, watching _Grey's Anatomy_ reruns and ordering take away. I might even be lazy enough to see if the coffee shop across the street did delivery. But alas, my shower and duty called.

I turned on the overhead shower and immediately the room began to fill with steam, and clicked 'play' on my speakers. My hand slid across the cool glass of the mirror, wiping away the condensation and my reflection stared back. I don't know where books or movies got this idea that women woke up with perfect hair, that pristine 'no make-up look' and overall that image of having a fantastic nights sleep. God it was one of the biggest lies ever told. That and women had orgasams every time there was a sex scene in films. My hair was a mess. After taking out the numerous bobby pins, I couldn't be bothered to rake a brush through all the hairspray, so it looked as if birds had taken to nesting in there. I had barely dragged a makeup wipe across my eyes, so looked like a panda's gothic cousin - my skin was going to pay me back for that later. I could already see a tell-tale red bump of a spot just beneath the surface of the skin on my cheeks. Thank fuck for concealer. And the coupe de grace was… my breath. I'd been so tired last night, I'd done the bare minimum before falling into bed and neglecting to brush my teeth was a big one. And Great Aunt Willow wondered why I was still single - could be because I'd kill any man with morning breath before the coffee pot was even turned on. I loaded up the toothbrush with copious amounts of toothpaste and took a nice gargle of mouthwash. Better.

Stripping out of my silk nightie, I stepped into the warm embrace of the steam and water and felt the tenseness leave my shoulders. The heat and pounding water caressing my skin, massaging the aches and pains away. This is why I got up early to take long, hot showers. I enjoyed them way too much. This should only be a quick one, considering I'd been, waxed, plucked and groomed within an inch of my life for last night, just a quick shampoo and condition. I checked the clock on the wall and eyed the detachable shower head. Perhaps I had a little time to spare…

I turned down the ferocious heat and increased the pressure. I took my time tracing the water down from my hair, over my shoulders, lingering over my arms… my stomach… As soon as the pressured water hit my clit I thought my legs might give way. My other hand grabbed the shelves which held my collection of toiletries and I closed my eyes. Let's just say - it'd been a little while. I was sucking in air as fast as I could exhale, the steam and heat from the shower making it feel as if I was breathing through cotton wool, making me dizzy. Making it… better?

My head leant against the cool tile and my eyes closed in ecstasy. I could feel that pressure building. I felt a flush over my skin, from my neck and all the way down my legs. They started to shake. I moved the shower head in small circles building speed. It wasn't quite as good as some of the toys I had in the bottom drawer of my bedside table, but I wasn't exactly going to leave at the crucial moment to go and get one.

The pressure building was almost too intense… almost there… almost… vaguely in the distance I heard my phone alarm buzzing, but it was of such little importance… right… now… almost… Green eyes and auburn hair flashed through my mind as my whole body tensed and my release cascaded throughout my body. I gasped. As quick as my orgasm ripped through me, I was suddenly crashing to the floor of the shower. I landed hard on my left side, hitting my elbow, hip and buttock. The shock rocked through me, leaving me breathless. I lay there for a moment, under the spray of main shower, and the detachable head waving wildly, almost as if I was laughing at me. I eyed the suds near my feet and cursed them. Motherfucker.

It took another few minutes before I could summon the strength to push myself up off the floor, my muscles screaming in protest. I went down _really_ hard. I grabbed a towel off the rail and wrapped one gently around myself and attempted to wrap my hair in one too, but my arm just didn't want to do that. I hobbled back to the bedroom and relished the soft mattress beneath my aching buttock. Well now I felt like a right idiot. Injury by Orgasm was not what I wanted carved into my headstone. Okay - time to get ready for this ridiculous meeting. I made my way towards my dresser and eyed the draw I pulled open. The main colour scheme for my underwear was black. Don't get me wrong, I had a few special items with flashes of colour, red, purple, blue, leather… but I didn't want to think about how uncomfortable they would be right now. Bruised and chafing was not on the itinerary for today. I even narrowed my eyes at my everyday lace thongs and thought I did not want something uncomfortable creeping up my butt whilst I was turning shades of black and blue. With how pale I was and how easily I bruised, this was developing thick and fast, darkening before my own eyes. So, instead, I reached towards the back of the draw, pulling out a pair of trusty cotton panties, that really comfortable pair every girl has, for days when you are bloated, have your period, or just want a damn pair of comfortable knickers. That and a bralet - because I refused to even consider an underwire right now - jeans and a sheer black shirt. Simple, comfortable, presentable (for a weekend meeting). Sorted.

I was zipping up my boots when I checked the time on my phone.

 _Oh fuck._

The meeting was meant to be starting now. I whipped up the Uber app as I dragged the brush through the waves of my hair. 3 minutes until it arrived. And then another 10 minutes to the office. Shit. David was going to be _pissed._

I threw the essentials into my handbag, locked the door and took the elevator down to the lobby and ignored the voice in my head that said it was healthier to take the stairs. Screw the stairs, I ached enough. I saluted Fred, the doorman on the way out, and slipped smoothly into the Uber.

'I'll give you a £10 cash tip if you can make it there in half the time,' I told the driver. He put his foot down.

From my bag, I took out my little make up bag for quick fixes and top ups. I did not have enough time or products for a full face, but I didn't want to look as bone tired as I felt. A quick squirt of moisturiser; a slick of concealer under my eyes (and on that spot); a rough drawn line on up upper lashes that I smudged with my finger (we'd call it a smokey eye, if any one asked) and a coat or two of mascara. Done, just as the car pulled up. True to my word, I pulled out £10 and gave him 5 stars.

The whoosh of the doors opened and I headed straight to the lift. The weekend security staff knew me on sight, as I was known to pop in to check on items over the weekend. Shane lifted his hand before turning back to the football he was watching on his phone. I smiled. Easiest job in the world, sitting and watching stuff on your phone all weekend.

The lift doors opened and I pressed the button for the top floor. It would take a minute or so to get there, and I mentally prepared myself for seeing Mr Flannery again. Mr Flannery. We'll keep it personal. Distant.

The lift arrived and I stepped out into the foyer. I heard voices coming from David's office and made my way there. The resonance of male laughter floated on the air as I drew closer and four pairs of eyes turned as I entered the doorway and more laughter ensued, as if the butt of the joke had just walked up. Great.

'Well Arianna, late again. Again? Why am I surprised. But, business calls. We'll have a meeting about this on Monday.' David said turning away from me.

'My apologies David. There is no excuse,' and I placed my bag down on the floor, sucking in a sharp breath through my teeth as the straps grazed against my elbow and the base banged into my leg.

'Hold on minute,' Mr Flannery said walking over to me. 'What happened? You're hurt.' My head whipped up in surprise.

'I… er, it's fine. It's nothing.' I stammered. 'I just slipped in the shower, how did you even know?' I straightened, and looked at him. I startled for a moment, staring into his eyes. They were green, without the glowing, but there had flecks of gold around the pupil.

He exhaled, loudly. 'I can see the bruise developing on your side and on your arm through your blouse.' He gently touched my arm to inspect the bruise blooming beneath the sheer sleeve.

Under his breath, but not quietly, James, David's favourite, commented, 'And how would he know what's under her blouse?'

I opened my mouth to respond, but Mr Flannery snapped his head to the side and beat me to it. 'I could see Miss Callaghan's arms last night, as they were not covered up and neither were they a darkening shade of purple. Now, if you please, respect your colleague and me.' Mr Flannery's eyes hardened and the stare that was directed towards James made me shiver. I could feel Mr Flannery's hand tense around my arm and I thought back to the damage he had inflicted on Gregory last night. Yet he held me so gently.

David jumped in, 'Yes James. Please be respectful to your fellow colleagues.' Like he ever cared how my colleagues ever treated me. When I told him about Gregory cornering me at the Christmas Party, he asked how much I'd had to drink and commented on what I was wearing. 'Now, if you'll all follow me, we can begin the payment.'

David and James left the office towards one of the conference rooms, where a call had been set up for Mr Flannery to contact his bank. I moved to follow, but his grip tighten, then he released my arm.

'Did you really just slip in the shower?' He asked, concern furrowing his brow.

'Yes. I did. It was stupid, I was distracted…' I realised at that moment, it was his auburn hair and his green eyes that had flashed through my vision at my moment of climax. There was nothing I could do to stop the redness flushing my cheeks. Oh god, here he was now standing right in front of me, his eyes piercing right through me. He breathed in deeply and smiled. Almost as if he knew.

'What were you doing to drive you to that much distraction?' he asked, leaning in closer. I tried to clear my throat to tell him to get his mind out of the gutter, no matter how much of a right it had to be there. 'I can smell it on you,' he said. What was he talking about? As if he'd heard my unspoken question, he continued, 'Your orgasm, your arousal. Your enjoyment…' His tongue flicked out and brushed my earlobe.

The flush of my cheeks expanded into my whole body, I felt the heat creep up my neck and knew that I would be glowing with embarrassment. My mouth hung open, and no matter how many times my brain told my mouth to form words to protest, nothing came out.

'Mr Flannery, if you would be so kind…' David called from the other room.

'Come on poppet, we have business to attend to,' he walked away laughing as I leaned against the door frame to regain my composure before walking into that den of lions.

He could _smell_ it on me? Oh _God._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 _Ian_

The transaction went smoothly, of course. I was so vastly wealthy, it was a dent in a drop of the ocean. It was just a bit of a ball ache as I had to pay a late night visit to my bank manager. He was already green-eyed to not ask any questions, especially as I have had an active account for over a hundred years, but as this was _quite_ a large sum, I thought it best for him to not speak out of term. No need to scare the sellers.

They didn't know what I was, but they all knew who I was. As did many of their wives. And they all knew I was a collector with money to burn, though this of course was a lot of money, and I rarely dealt with the riff raff in person.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Arianna. From this position, I could see the bruise spreading down her arm and side, vanishing below the waistline of her jeans. Arianna glanced in my direction and her shoulders hunched and she drew into herself, folding her arms. It took a moment for me to realise I'd been subconsciously licking my lips at the thought of me dipping below that waistline of her jeans.

I was bored now and I had other business to deal with.

Cutting off the fatter one mid-sentence, I turned and said, 'Right well. Yes, whatever lads. Best be getting off. If those packages don't get personally hand delivered and given only to me, you will be held liable and I will sue this company to the ground. Got it? Grand. Ms Callaghan, show me to your office, we have other business to discuss.'

Shock coloured her cheeks and she turned and left the conference room. She led me down the corridor to what appeared like a glorified cupboard.

'This is your office?' my lip curled. God, she was really treated like dog shit here.

'I'm the youngest and newest team member, I have to work my way up, just like the rest of them did,' she said, circling around the desk and taking a seat. ' I don't really mind, it's quiet and out of the way. Nobody bothers me and the other perks are great. No need for me to kick up a stink about where I sit, when I much prefer being out in the field anyway.'

I registered what she said, but my ears pricked the most when she mentioned how quiet and out the way her office was. Nobody ever bothered her. Wicked thoughts cross my mind.

Wicked, wicked thoughts.

In a serpentine manner, I made my way towards the desk, directly opposite her and rested my arms on the cheap wood, bringing me down almost to eye level. I studied her face.

She looked nervous, and the worry was obvious in her brow. Her skin was as pale as Cat's but didn't share the smooth perfection. She was young, and so age hadn't had the opportunity to steal the youthful plumpness from her cheeks. The sun hadn't blemished her skin either; she obviously took care of herself. Her hair was dark, not black, but dark. There was the odd streak of silver, weaving its way through her waves, catching the light. I couldn't smell any hair dye, so her hair was all natural. Make up a little sloppy but I guessed that was because she'd done it in a hurry. She had a scar on her shoulder, which I hadn't seen last night, that she must have covered with her hair. It looked as if a chunk had been taken out of her, but laser surgery had done wonders for it. The too smooth skin looked new and shiny, but it had blended in well to the skin around it. I met her eyes. Hazel. Nothing special. Nothing special about them at all. More yellow and green around the pupil, and darker at the outer rim. So why had they been the eyes I'd seen when the woman from last night rode my cock to exhaustion?

'What are you staring at? Are you trying to take my memories yet?' Her lip trembled ever so slightly.

'Come round here,' the demand was forceful, but I kept my voice soft. No need to scare the poor thing. She walked around the edge of the desk and I moved so she could stand in front of me. 'Sit' I told her. She perched on the edge of the desk. I moved my head to her neck and took a deep breath. That sickly sweet scent of fear mingled with the floral fragrance or arousal, the poor lass didn't know what she wanted. I did a slow lick up the long line of her neck, relishing her slight gasp.

'Tell me what happened this morning,' I whispered into her ear.

'I…' she stuttered. 'I… nothing. I told you I slipped in the shower,' she said, with a little more firmness in her voice.

'But what had you been doing when you slipped?' I probed. I know exactly what she had been doing. I wanted her to say it.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. I could hear her heartbeat fluttering, he body not sure how to respond. With a hint of defiance, of confidence, she replied, 'I was masturbating. Happy?'

Oh _Cain_ I wanted to sink my teeth and something else into her right fucking now and it took everything inside of me not to. I took her earlobe between my teeth, savouring these last few moment before I took her memories of me and what happened last night.

'Well? What of it?' she challenged. _Oh, you shouldn't have done that._ In less than a second, before she's even registered my movement, I had undone the button on her jeans and was pushing them down her shapely thighs. That's when I caught sight of… the underwear?

Arianna had gasped when I'd started to remove her jeans, and gasped again when she followed my eyeline.

'That has to be the most unsightly pair of underwear I have ever seen,' I told her, 'and I lived in London in the 1700s.' Her small hands went to her face to cover the ferocious blush covering her cheeks.

'Oh God,' she said. Not quite I thought. 'It wasn't like I was expecting anyone to see them today,' she hastily tried to reach for her jeans to pull them back up. I grabbed both her hands and stared her directly in the eye.

'I don't think I can pretend I didn't see them, but I can easily rectify the problem,' and I ripped the panties from her body. I pushed her thighs apart and put one knee on the floor. I looked up at her, a knowing glint in my eye. She wasn't going to stop me and I was going to make sure we both enjoyed it.

The tight, dark curls at on her mound of Venus, was welcoming and enticing. I loved a shaved pussy but I wanted to feel her curls on my chin. If I was attempting a full seduction, I would have kissed up her thighs, enjoying those little sounds, but time was against us and this was pure carnal lust. Nothing romantic about this at all.

I buried my mouth between her legs, sucking hard on her clit, rubbing my fangs against her, relishing her gasps and her hands gripping my hair. I felt drunk off her scent - the pure, unadulterated lust and enjoyment, tinged with the edge of fear every time my fangs rubbed a little too hard. To say I was good at pleasing a woman was an understatement. I had _years_ of practice. My tongue moved expertly over her clit, before exploring her depths. My fingers replaced my tongue, and I bought her to the edge of climax three or four times. The next time I brought her close and was about to still my assault to begin it all again, she yanked me up by hair.

'Don't. You. Fucking. Dare,' she panted. I laughed and moved my mouth back. I wonder… I moved my hand lower. He hand snapped out and grabbed my wrist before I could progress any further.

'I don't think so. That's tenth date privileges.' She pulled my hand to her mouth, slipping my fingers between her lips before moving my hand back to her other wet lips. I entered her once more and returned my mouth to her swollen clit. I'd be kind this time. I started slow, increasing my speed ever so slightly minute by minute. By the tenth minute that past, a soft sheen of sweat covered her body. By fifteen minutes she was almost crying. I ravaged her with my hands and my mouth, taking everything she could give, and then some. This time, when I felt her orgasm edging closer and closer, instead of slowing down I persisted, bringing her crashing over the edge with a scream. I felt her tighten around me and I continued my relentless pursuit of her orgasm and made it last minutes.

She lay back on the desk, panting, gasping, completely spent. I stood up and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, before pulling her up into a sitting position.

'You're better than everything battery operated I own, even if I was using them all at once,' she managed to get out between gasps.

'I think you'll find I'm better than anything battery operated, and any man you've ever had,' I stated as fact. She raised an eyebrow in a way that would put Crispin to shame.

'I don't know if I would say that,' she replied. My mouth opened in shock. I'm sorry _what?_

I was about to defend my honour and prove, again, just how good I was, when I heard the elevator approaching the floor and the cold, harsh reality hit home. I was supposed to be taking her memories and sending her on her merry way. Bugger.

'Sorry darling, but there's no time to prove you wrong. Perhaps another day, another life.' I turned on the greens and captured her gaze. 'You won't remember me, you won't remember what we did. You never saw me.'

Her large hazel eyes stared at me. 'I never saw you.'

'Right you are love,' and I scored my thumb on my fang before placing it in her mouth, to at least heal her bruise.

 _Arianna_

I heard the ping of the elevator doors and it was like a light had been turned on. I turned and saw Shane, the Saturday security guard heading towards my office.

'Hey Arianna, you alright? I thought I heard a scream,' he said and leaned against the door frame. I was sat on the edge of the desk.

'I… I'm fine, thanks, Shane,' and he turned to walk away.

'You sure? You look a little lost.'

'No, no I'm fine really. I'm just not sure what I'm doing in the office. It's Saturday, right?' I asked. Something felt utterly wrong. I felt flushed and breathless and confused.

'You came in this morning for the final transaction,' he said, looking a little alarmed. 'Do you want me to call anyone for you? A cab?'

'Oh, oh yes of course, the final transaction. Right. Got it. You know what, a cab would be great. Thanks Shane, I'll be down in a minute.' He walked off towards the elevator, throwing a concerned look over his shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the elevator and began his descent.

Of course I'd come in to help with the final transaction for Mr… Mr something or other. I remember now. I got up I showered, I slipped… but I no longer ached, which was a relief.

It was only when I was in the elevator that I realised, _did I forget to put underwear on this morning?_


End file.
